


Pub Nights

by SilverInk



Category: Endeavour (TV)
Genre: First Dates, M/M, Romance, Trewlove ships it, Wingwoman Shirley Trewlove, she's the captain of this ship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-16
Updated: 2017-04-16
Packaged: 2018-10-14 01:19:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 932
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10525896
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SilverInk/pseuds/SilverInk
Summary: Trewlove sets the boys up on a pub date.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by this: http://teacupboats.tumblr.com/post/158674097114/

It was fairly obvious to Shirley how much Morse liked that pathologist, Dr Debryn. She only had to look at a single interaction of theirs to see it, and there were many: standing close together at a crime scene by the river, talking about lost loves; Morse nearly always finding an excuse to collect autopsy reports himself; his long glances at the doctor. He clearly had a crush, and Shirley wanted to get all the details from her friend, but she doubted he was the kind of person who’d be excited to talk about crushes.

And after not too long, as Shirley got to know Dr DeBryn, it became clear that he liked Morse just as much: he'd taken care of Morse’s numerous on-the-job injuries, always talked and joked with him while keeping more of a professional distance with the other detectives, and returned Morse’s long looks as well. She wondered if there was something going on between them, but decided it would be better not to pry.

That resolution was promptly forgotten, however, when she and Morse spent a well-deserved Friday night in the pub after finishing their latest case. They were sat at the bar and had both had a few too many drinks, and Shirley discovered that Morse was a very emotional drunk. She laughingly knocked her shoulder against his and said, "So, you and Dr DeBryn an item then? Have you moved in yet?”

Morse laughed, taking a sip of his pint and sighing histrionically. "Oh, Shirley, I wish. He could never feel the same about me though, he probably has a girl anyway." He downed what was left of his pint in one go and rather dramatically handed her the glass so she could get the next round, but she ignored it, waving her hands irritatedly.

“No no no no no, Morse, _he likes you too!”_ She put both hands on his shoulders and looked intensely at him like she was telling him something vitally important. “He doesn’t have a girl. I know he really likes you, just ask him out!”

“Yeah? You really sure?”

“Yeah! Of course I am!” She ordered another round of scotches for both of them, and when the bartender handed them to her, Shirley knocked her glass against Morse’s rather forcefully, spilling some of her own drink onto the bar. “Go get your man, Morse! Tomorrow, you ask him out!”

They had several more drinks and the next morning, she woke with an awful headache and didn’t remember much more than that; she desperately hoped Morse didn’t remember too much either. She wasn’t going to bring it up either way. But she did have a plan to get him and DeBryn together now, and tonight she was going to put it into action.

 

***

 

“Doctor?” She approached DeBryn later that afternoon, when she went to collect his latest autopsy report.

“Afternoon, Constable,” he said. “Here for the report?”

She nodded and he handed it over. 

“Nothing suspicious, despite Morse’s initial impression. Just poor judgement and foolhardiness,” he said, a note of sarcasm in his voice.

“Thank you, doctor.” She paused a moment, then added, “I wondered, are you free to go to the pub tonight? For sort of a blind date? See, I’ve got this friend who I think would be the perfect match for you. Of course, I don't mean to meddle—”

“No, not at all,” DeBryn waved off her concern lightly. “I’m just not used to having friends set me up with blind dates anymore. What’s she like, then, your friend?”

“Well I can’t tell you that, it spoils the fun of a blind date!” she answered, grinning. “Just go to The Royal, the end seat at the bar, at 7:00. Your date will have a white flower. You’d better have one too. You’ll have fun, I promise!” she added when he looked less than thrilled. 

“Alright. I suppose I’ll give it a go,” he conceded. 

“Good!” With another cheeky grin and a quick pat on his arm, she left the morgue and went back to the police station with the report. 

Once she’d it to given DI Thursday, she went to find Morse. He was at his desk as expected, hunched over his typewriter, good posture thrown to the wind. Shirley frowned a little, but didn’t say anything about it, instead asking if he’d be up for a blind date that evening. He made his usual excuses about _work,_ of course, but Shirley had by now figured out the best way to convince him to go out and do things, and she eventually managed to persuade him, too.

The plan had worked. She was actually somewhat surprised, since both of them were so introverted and stubborn (or at least Morse was stubborn), but she was confident that they both would enjoy themselves, realize they felt the same about each other, plan their next date, and thank her later.

And the next day at work, Morse came in half an hour later than usual, looking unusually cheerful, and whistling something to himself, and Shirley had to bite her lip hard to keep from laughing. He caught Shirley’s eye and flashed her a grin and mouthed, “Thanks.” She grinned back and mouthed, “Any time.” 

After they returned to their respective desks, she could swear she saw Thursday watching Morse with a suppressed smile. Of course the inspector had figured out what was going on, of course he knew Morse had had a date. And she wouldn’t be surprised if he knew exactly who it was Morse had seen last night, too.


End file.
